


Private Hymns

by providentialeyes



Category: Red Dead Redemption (Video Games)
Genre: Age Difference, Coming In Pants, Exhibitionism, Grinding, M/M, Sound Kink?, Top John, idfk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-07
Updated: 2019-10-07
Packaged: 2020-11-26 11:56:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,792
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20929838
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/providentialeyes/pseuds/providentialeyes
Summary: “You… Must be quiet, huh?” Arthur asks, haltingly, nervously, like he’s not sure if he wants to be asking these things.John huffs a laugh.“Used to be,” John smooths a wrinkle in his pants with his fingertip, “But, honestly?”He can see Arthur’s Adam’s apple bob as the older man swallows thickly.“You’re a pretty heavy sleeper,” John says after a moment.





	Private Hymns

“Can I _please_ see?” John asks, leaning over Arthur on his hands and knees as the older man sketches in his journal.

Arthur glances at him over the top of the journal from where he’s reclining on a pile of blankets and a singular pillow.

“No,” Arthur says bluntly, then returns to sketching.

John sits for a second, slack-jawed, then frowns heavily at the older man.

“I know you drew me,” John says and shifts closer, preparing himself.

“Do you now?”

“Uh-huh,” John drawls and rocks back onto his feet, crouching, “So, I think it’s only fair I get to see.”

“Well, considerin' it’s _my_ drawin’,” Arthur says, sounding more amused than anything, “I think that I get to decide who gets to see.”

John rolls his eyes then tackles the older man, causing Arthur to grunt and struggle under him, lifting the journal out of reach.

They wrestle for a few minutes, John grappling to see the drawing only for Arthur to shove him back.

John lets out a frustrated sound and finally sits back on Arthur’s stomach, breathing a little labored.

Arthur’s watching him with a quirked brow, looking just as casual as he had before.

“You done?” Arthur asks.

John frowns and digs his thumb in under Arthur’s ribs, causing the older man to flinch and squirm under him.

Arthur drops his journal and John reaches for it, but, before he can grab it, his hands are caught by Arthur.

“Come _on,”_ John groans in annoyance and struggles, trying to tug his hands free as Arthur just watches him.

Then the older man’s breath hitches and John frowns at him in confusion, tugging sharper.

Arthur’s face is pinched, now, and John slowly stops struggling, giving one last feeble pull.

“You… Alright?” John asks reluctantly, because he didn’t mean to hurt Arthur, but the older man is tensing like he’s trying not to react.

“I’m fine,” Arthur mutters, looking away, at his journal, and then back to John.

John observes this whole thing, brows furrowed.

“Did I hurt you?” John asks, because their tussles lasted anywhere between a couple of minutes to nearing a quarter-hour.

This is unusually short.

“John,” Arthur sighs and lets his head fall back, closing his eyes and squeezing John’s hands, “Just… Give up.”

John narrows his eyes and tugs at his hands again, trying to rock back with his body-weight to give him leverage.

Arthur’s breath stutters again.

“Seriously,” John huffs, “Am I hurtin’ you?”

“You oughta just get off o’ me,” Arthur says quietly.

John studies the older man for a moment.

Taking in the faint pink tint to Arthur’s cheeks, trying to remember if the older man had a sunburn before this.

The way Arthur’s brows are pinched together, his eyes closed tightly.

John looks over the older man’s upper body, getting down to the belt buckle before realizing.

He shifts, just to test his theory, and now he can feel Arthur’s bulge under his ass, sees the older man barely flinch.

“Oh,” John says softly.

His toes curl on either side of Arthur’s legs and he swallows, looking down at Arthur in uncertainty.

John could swear he sees the flush on Arthur’s face spread further.

“Sorry,” Arthur mutters, “Didn’t mean to make things… Odd.”

“It’s…” John swallows again and resists the temptation to squirm at the heat he’s feeling now, deep in his gut.

Arthur lets go of John’s hands to cover his face with one of his own, rubbing roughly at his forehead.

“Fine,” John finishes weakly.

But he doesn’t move, hands awkwardly hovering in the air before settling his knuckles on Arthur’s stomach tentatively, fists curled between his own thighs, trying to conceal his own hardness.

John’s toes curl again and his thighs tense involuntarily, hips shifting ever-so-slightly.

Arthur’s legs flex behind him and the older man opens his eyes to look at John.

John knows his face is flushed, and he closes his hands into tighter fists, not quite meeting Arthur’s eyes.

“You gon’ get off o’ me?” Arthur asks quietly.

“I…” John swallows, sucking on his teeth.

Arthur frowns up at him and John shifts, settles so more of his weight is on Arthur.

He sees the older man’s eyes widen slightly.

John’s eyes trail from Arthur’s face, down the older man’s neck, then chest, stomach, all the way to his hands.

He uncurls his fists and wraps his fingers around Arthur’s belt tightly.

“John?” Arthur asks breathily.

John rubs his thumb over the edge of the brass buckle-cover then ducks his head.

“S’been… A while, for you, right?” John pushes his thumb under the buckle-cover and lifts it up a little bit.

“... What?” Arthur whispers.

“I know you don’t… You don’t _get off,_ with me here,” John says slowly, fiddling with the metal, not quite sure if he wants to flip it up and undo the buckle.

“That’s not…” Arthur drops his hands to his sides, thumb and index of one hand pinching the fabric and worrying it.

“If I told you I didn’t mind,” John mutters, “Would you?”

“I don’t… It’s not an issue,” Arthur says hurriedly.

“You know I do, right?” John asks he toys with buckle cover, pushing it back and forth between his thumbs, “Usually wait until you’re gone… Or asleep.”

Arthur’s stomach tenses in front of his hands and John finally gathers the courage to meet Arthur’s eyes.

The older man is staring at him, looking a bit cornered.

“So, I’m sayin’ I don’t mind,” John pulls his hands back, settling them on his thighs, “S’only fair.”

“You… Must be quiet, huh?” Arthur asks, haltingly, nervously, like he’s not sure if he _wants_ to be asking these things.

John huffs a laugh.

“Used to be,” John smooths a wrinkle in his pants with his fingertip, “But, honestly?”

He can see Arthur’s Adam’s apple bob as the older man swallows thickly.

“You’re a pretty heavy sleeper,” John says after a moment.

John feels Arthur’s hips shift underneath him and he raises a brow at the older man, surprised.

“You like that?” John asks.

Arthur quickly looks away, up at the ceiling of the tent, and then to the side.

“... Alright,” John says slowly.

“Shit,” Arthur mutters and brings his hand back up to cover his eyes and burning cheeks.

“Sorry,” John says insincerely.

Arthur’s hand flexes into a fist near John’s knees for a moment then relaxes.

John _really_ wants to rock his hips, just to see Arthur’s reaction.

So, he does.

Arthur inhales sharply and his hand curls around John’s knee, grip bruising, the other sliding down his face to cover his mouth.

“Could you get off like this?” John asks, shifting to line up Arthur’s cock with his ass.

Arthur’s eyes open to look up at him, pupils blown wide, gaze darting frantically over John’s face.

“Do you want to?” John asks genuinely.

Arthur watches him for what feels like forever, then closes his eyes tightly and nods.

John takes it as permission to grind down against Arthur, seeing the older man’s chest jump with a muffled gasp.

He keeps a steady rhythm, grinding his hips slow and hard.

Arthur’s fingers bite into the back of his thigh and John can feel himself leaking in his drawers.

He slides back a little and lines his bulge up with Arthur’s, rocking them together, making a quiet sound, a breathy moan.

Arthur’s eyes fly open, staring up at him.

“This alright?” John pauses as he settles a hand on Arthur’s stomach.

“Jesus,” Arthur murmurs behind his hand, _“Yeah.”_

John rocks his hips again and makes another small noise.

Then feels Arthur’s hips jerk up against him.

John swallows as the dots connect in his head.

That Arthur likes the noises he’s making.

John studies the older man for a minute then moves his hands to either side of Arthur’s waist, leaning over the older man.

He ducks his head slightly, getting flustered by the closeness of Arthur’s heated gaze.

He grinds them together and grips the bedroll tightly, moaning low in his throat.

Careful not to be too loud, but not holding back like he normally at least _tries_ to.

Arthur’s hips thrust up against his again and John whimpers softly.

Arthur’s groan is muffled behind his hand but it makes John’s cock jerk regardless.

John knows there’s already a wet spot on his drawers, wonders whether it’s showing through his trousers, whether if he sat back it would be on display.

Wonders if Arthur would like _that._

The thought makes him whimper again and he hears Arthur’s weak, desperate sound in response.

He rocks his hips a little faster, little, gasps and whines escaping him as he gets close.

He hears Arthur curse then the older man’s hands are on his ass, pushing down so their hips are pressed together tightly.

“Art,” John moans quietly, resting his head on the older man’s collarbone and grinding down against the older man in small, jerky thrusts.

“Close,” Arthur whispers shakily, “You?”

“Yeah,” John whines, “C’mon.”

Arthur rocks up against him and John turns his face into Arthur’s neck panting between needy sounds.

The older man grips his ass tighter and his hips cant up.

“Arthur,” John whimpers and grinds down unsteadily, roughly.

He hears Arthur gasp sharply, then the older man’s hips stutter against him as Arthur comes.

“Fuck,” John bites out as he lifts himself up, palms pressing down on Arthur’s chest, and shifts to the side, rocking against Arthur’s hip.

He can feel Arthur’s chest moving underneath his hands, rising and falling quickly as the older man tries to catch his breath.

John meets Arthur’s eyes before bringing a hand up to bite down on the meat of his thumb, muffling himself as he cries out the older man’s name.

He feels Arthur’s hips give a valiant jerk against him and comes, gasping against his skin as his fingers curl in Arthur’s shirt.

Arthur’s hands on his ass guide him through a few, drawn-out rolling motions and John whimpers, looking down to see the sticky wet spot spreading to Arthur’s pants, making him whimper louder.

He twists his hand to cover his mouth as he breathes shakily, Arthur easing up the pressure, fingers kneading the thin flesh of John’s ass.

“Christ,” John whispers, feeling himself growing nervous.

“You sound like that every time?”

John just breathes for a moment, then ducks his head and nods hesitantly.

“And you do that when I’m asleep?” Arthur asks lowly.

John’s breath hitches and he realizes the upper-hand has been exchanged, and now Arthur’s in control of this situation, and where it will go.

He nods again, pressing his hand tighter to his mouth.

Arthur hums curiously and squeezes John’s ass.

“Wake me up, next time.”

**Author's Note:**

> i have no patience
> 
> [Morston Discord Server](https://discord.gg/tZQp6hX)


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